


Back, With New Intent.

by CompanionToMisterHolmes



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Gen, Molly moves on, Sherlock is in almost unrequited love with Molly, Sherlock's a little slow on the uptake, like really moves on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-23
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-12 19:01:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/814921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CompanionToMisterHolmes/pseuds/CompanionToMisterHolmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a.k.a - Creamy Sweet Tea</p><p>An old anon prompt from my tumblr, that I re-read and thought it deserved a place here :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back, With New Intent.

The rooms were cold, an empty chill passed through her very core and of course she knew.

Goodbye - SH

The note placed under a half drained coffee mug sat upon the corner of her kitchen table, it required no more, that one word and Molly knew Sherlock Holmes was alive, well and dismantling a cruelly and perfectly created criminal network. It was at her common knowledge he was not going to stay with Molly for long, a dead man hidden in a dead home, but she had expected some warning, some chance to tell him anything and everything, even to whisper ‘goodbye’ to someone not the wind.

Gone, without a trace. Molly’s tears stained her face and heart for weeks on end.

* * *

The years that followed began to pass painfully, yet before the pain could fester and engulf her heart, a new life swallowed Molly whole. Love was something she had not expected in her Sherlockless world, but the Detective Inspector with the keen eye and knowledge beyond himself stole her heart and took her hand in marriage not one year after Sherlock’s fall.

Greg knew Sherlock was alive, he knew Molly knew and had pondered that Molly had helped in the falsification of papers and the act itself. His now wife had not breathed a word of the ‘deceased’ consulting detective, but his mind was not as slow as Sherlock would have once imagined, he’d figured it out and daring not to say a word had simply breathed the words “I know” into Molly’s near unconscious ear the day of their first son’s birth. Both were comfortable with the elephant that sat with unnecessary ease in the corner of every room.

Their son had grown with great pace, and two years into little Harry’s life he got his almost unreasonable wish of an almost little sister. Molly’s stomach’s growth corresponded with their boy’s height as she expanded it seemed as if Harry sprouted; Greg would sometimes joke that he took after Sherlock in that respect, that mad genius could make it possible somehow.

Of course that would be when the now blonde, bruised and baffled genius would waltz into their home (how he got a key after they’d moved Molly would never ask). “He punched me… A right hook, that’s not even his stronger side for Christ sake…”

“Back then are we?” Molly’s unnerved voice spoke as she gracefully waddled to the kitchen to make tea. Greg sat in a stoney silence, stunned… not at Sherlock’s return, nor his wife’s natural reaction to make tea, not even at the purpling area around Sherlock’s eye from a well delivered ‘John Watson punch’, but at how comfortable, how domestic and natural it all seemed, even to the unfazed toddler glued to the TV.

“Yes, and you appear to be growing some form life in abdomen. Lestrade. You don’t mind if I talk to your partner… No… spouse, in private, do you? Of course not.”

* * *

Back, with new intent.

* * *

They had talked for an hour now, skirting around emotion and action, small talk of Harry’s milestones that grew into Sherlock’s revelations of love and loss, how it had grown from the moments after the fall, in her quite home in the weeks he hid and was now stronger than he could have anticipated. And for Molly the impending hell that came with giving rather than receiving rejection, her love for Greg stronger than she could have ever known.

“No, you can’t Sherlock, it’s silly. Stop it.”

“But, Molly… I… I love you.” Those once preposterous words fell easily from his lips. The silence of an recently vacated house and an empty kitchen, (bar their two and a half bodies) was short, sweet and terrifying to the cold closed off man.

“And Sherlock, I love you, I truly do, and I always will, just not… not in the romantic sense; it’s different. I love Greg so dearly.” Molly gently cupped Sherlock’s cheek, and with the pad of her thumb smoothed over the bruising that John had provided not an hour ago. 

They still stood at a distance, not only did Molly not want to hurt the once emotionless man any further than she had to, but her protruding stomach gave a barrier between them. 

“He’s my husband, Sherlock. And I love you in such different ways. My heart was so empty when my father passed on, and both you and Greg have filled it beyond my wildest dreams.” A lone tear rolled down her cheek and into the crease of her half upturned lip, it was cliché, but her hormones weren’t in their usual state and letting down this man, the one man her heart had once longed for, the man she once believed she loved, was horrid.

The three words, from his lips, would have once sent her over the moon and back, now they made her heart fill with lead as it dropped past the substantial bump of her belly. She loved her husband, her son, and her soon to be baby girl, with all her now heavy, lead-filled heart; with the exception of that small corner that now felt lighter than air, flying on the wings of a school girl crush beating against the weight of guilt and sadness that engulfed her being.

“But I came back. For you.”

A sympathetic giggle emanated from her parted lips. “You came back for John, Mrs Hudson, Greg and me. You just weren’t expecting a punch, a handbag to the knee and married with kids.”

“You’re happy with him, I can tell. He’s certainly more than I had expected, but if he so much as thinks of hurting you, I will take care of it personally.”

“And then I shall personally take care of you!” She swatted him. “Not everything is solved with violence Sherlock, even Harry’s learnt that… And he’s two.”

“Fine, fine…”  
The silence engulfed them again as Molly handed the creamy, sweet tea to Sherlock, just how he liked it.

The creak of a door broke the pairs stupor. The smile and warmth that radiated from Molly at a glimpse of her ‘Salt and Pepper Detective’ gave Sherlock all he needed to know. He had lost her love, but not her friendship, and he would somehow be okay with that.


End file.
